It's been a less than stellar week. News of Boston, local mishaps, and the anniversary of my brother's death leave little wiggle room in my disposition. I have found myself, on more than one occasion struggling for patience. I have received every kindness offered as water and manna. Every kindness I have extended reminds me I am not hopeless. This is not who I am. I am not crabby, mean and foggy. Kindness has anchored me, as it has many. Why then, do we not do it more often?
I told the truth to a man who said my kindness mattered. "As does yours," I said, "This is what we have."
I find humor and comfort in my Scripture readings for the week. They bring out the best in me and remind me of shortcomings and disappointments.
The Lectionary (http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=136) reading for the week refers to a resurrection that was not mine. I distinctly remember begging for a miracle that did not come. Unsuccessful negotiation. Cheekiness or desperation? No matter. Forgiven.
On separate path, Ezekiel 34:4-6 chastens those who have not healed, comforted, bound the broken and found the lost. Chastens all with ears to hear and hearts to receive. Chastens me. This week, more than in a happy go lucky, perky week, I am reminded that without love, it is all noise. and even knowing this, I fall short. I take a modest and shamed comfort that I am not alone in this struggle.
God willing, there will be a next week and we will keep at the task.
Nothing save kindness and one foot in front of the other, and no looking down. This week, I held onto the rope, didn't look down and took one step at a time.
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